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EULOGY 



ON 



THE tlFE AND SERVICES 



OP 



HENRY CLAY, 



DELIVERED IN 



THE HALL OF THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES, 



October II, 1852, 



BY 



U. S. A. 



ALEXANDER K. M'CLUNG, ESQ. 



PUBLISHED BY ORDER OF THE LEGISLATURE, 



'^JACKSON: 

PALMER & PICKETT, STATE PRINTEPvS. 

1852. 



CORRESPONDENCE. 



Jackson, October 13tii, 1852. 
Col Alex. K. McClung :— 

Dear Sir: In common "with the immense audience in attendance, wo 
listened last night with great pleasure to your eulogy, upon the lile and 
character of Henry Clay. Appreciating your address, as a just and eloquent 
criticism upon the life and character of the great deceased, we met to request 
a copy for publication. In this, however, we find ourselves forestalled, by 
a resolution of the House of Representatives, passed this morning. 

We presume it would be gratifying to you that we should defer to tlii 
most complimentary, and unusual legislative action in this matter, and beg 
leave to subscribe ourselves. 

Very truly and respectfully, yotir ob't serv'ts., 

A.BURWELL, 
W. R. MILES, 
D. R. LEMMAN, 
T. J. WHARTON, 
B. YANDELL, 
J. D. ELLIOT. 

Onnmlttec 



Jackson, October 13tii, 16j2. 

Coi. A. K. McClung:— 

Dear Sir: The undersigned, who have been appointed a j<.int select 
committee under a resolution of the Senate and House of Representatives, 
of the Legislature of the State of Mississippi, to solicit from you, for publi- 
cation, a copy of the eulogy, delivered by yourself, in the Hall of the Houso 
of Representatives; on the evening of the 11th inst., on the life and servi- 



6 

CCS of the illustrious statesman, Henry Clay,--in the discharge of the pleas- 
ing duty devolved upon us, respectfully solicit a copy of your address. 

With the assurance of the high appreciation of ourselves, and of the 
bodies we represent, of your very powerful and eloquent address, 

We are, respectfully, 
D. W. ADAMS, HOWELL HINDS, 

SIMEON OLIVER, P. B. STARKE, 

GEO. S. GOLLADAY, J. H. R. TAYLOR, 

MORGAN McAFEE, THOS J. CATCHINGS, 

P. S. CATCHING. C. DEAVOURS. 

Committee on part of Senate. Committee of House of Representat toes. 



Jackson, October 13th, 1852. 

Gentlemen : I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of your letter 
of yesterday, requesting a copy of the speech I delivered on Monday last, 
upon the life and character of Henry Clay. I send to you at once the copy 
requested. I return to yourselves, gentlemen, and to the body of the Legis- 
lature whom you represent, my grateful thanks for the most unusual com- 
pliment conveyed by their action, and for the flattering terms in which that 
action is expressed. 

I have the honor to be, gentlemen, your ob't serv't. 

ALEX. K. McCLUNG. 
Messrs. Howell Hinds, P. B. Starke, Jas. H. R. Taylor, Thos. J. Catchings, 

and C. Deavours. Committee of the House of Representatives. 
Messrs. D. W. Adams, Simeon Oliver, Geo. S. Golladay, Morgan McAfee, 

and P. S. Catching. Committee on part of Senate. 



ORATION. 



Ladies and Gentlemen : 

We have met to commemorate tlie life and services of 
HENRY CLAY. After a long life, — after a long, useful 
and illustrious career, — lie has passed away. Tlie liery and 
aspiring spirit, whose earthly life was one long storm, iias at 
length sunk to rest. Neither praise nor censure can now 
reach him. When his haughty soul passed away from the 
earth, and the grave closed over his dust, it also entombed in 
its dark and narrow chamber the bitterness of detraction, 
and the tiger ferocity of party spirit, with which lie liad so 
long wrestled. Death has hallowed his name and burnished 
his services bright in the memory of his countrymen. We 
have met to express, in the manner which the custom of 
our country has established, our appreciation of tliose ser- 
vices and our sense of his glory. We have met, not as ])arti- 
sans or friends, — political or personal, — of the illustrious 
dead, but as Americans, desirous to do honor to a great 
American. 

In attempting to discharge the duty which has l^een im- 
posed upon me, I shall avoid the indiscriminate eulogy 
which is the proverbial blemish of obituaries and funeral 
discourses, and sliall essay, however feebly, to present Mr. 
Clay as he was, or, at least, as he seemed to me. Great be- 
ings, — grand human creatures, — scattered sparsely tlnougli- 
out time, should be painted with truth. An indiscriminate 
deluge of praise drowns mediocrity and greatness in the 
same grave, where none can distinguisli between tliem. 
When the greatest of all Englishmen, Oliver Cromwell, sat 
to the painter, Lely, for his portrait, whose pencil was addict- 
ed to flattery, he said; " Paint me as I am ; leave not out 
one wrinkle, scar or blemish, at your peril."' He wislied to 
go to the world as he was; and greatness is wise in wishing it. 



8 

No man the world ever saw was equally great in every 
quality of intellect and in every walk of action. All men 
are unequal ; and it is tasteful, as well as just, to plant the 
praise where it is true, rather than to drown all individuality 
and all character in one foaming chaos of eulogy. 

Henry Clay was most emphatically a peculiar and strongly 
marked character; incomparably more peculiar than any 
of those who were popularly considered his mental equals. 
Impetuous as a torrent, yet patient to gain his ends ; overbear- 
ing and trampling, yet winning and soothing ; haughty and 
fierce, yet kind and gentle ; dauntlessly brave in all kinds of 
courage, yet eminently prudent and conservative in all his 
policy, — all these moral attributes, antithetical as they seem, 
would shine out under difierent phases of his conduct. 

I need not detain this audience with a lengthened biogra- 
phical sketch ol Mr. Clay. The leading historical incidents 
of his life are universally known. He was born in Virginia, 
certainly not later than 1775, most probably a year or two 
earlier. His parentage was extremely humble. At the age 
of twenty, twenty-one or twenty-two, he emigrated to Lex- 
ington, Kentucky, where he undertook to pursue the great 
American road to eminence, — the bar. For this career, it 
w^ould have seemed at that time, that his advantages w^ere 
small, indeed. Young, poor and unconnected, with scarcely 
ordinary attainments of education, he entered the lists with 
numerous and able competitors. Yet, Henry Clay, destitute, 
as he was, of all adventitious advantages, was not destined to 
struggle upward along the weary and laborious path through 
which mediocrity toils to rank. The cedar imbedded in bar- 
ren rocks, upon the mountain side, with scarcely soil to 
feed its roots, will tower above the tallest of the forest ; for 
it is its nature so to do. So this great Genius at once shot up 
like a shaft. He rose to high rank at the bar. In 1799 
he was elected to the Kentucky legislature; in 1806 to the 
V. S. Senate; in 1811 to the House of Representatives ; and 
there began his national career. Since that time, Mr. 
Clay has filled a large space in the public eye. His career 
has been checkered, stormy, and tempestuous. Now the ob- 
ject of universal praise ; now attacked with very general 
censure ; now culminating upon the crest of fortune's wave ; 
then dashed upon the rocks and overwhelmed with roar and 
clamor. It was his fate al periods of his career to drain to the 
bottom that measure of relentless hate with which mean 
souls resent tlie imperial pride of haughty genius. It was 



his fate to feel that constant success is the only sliield wliicli 
greatness and glory can rear against the poison of envy and 
slanders venomous sting. 

Pie who ascends to mountain's tops, sliall find 
The loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow. 
He who surpasses or subdues mankind, 
Must look down on the hate of those below, 
Though high above the sun of glory glow, 
And far beneath are earth and ocean'spread, 
Around him are icy rocks, and loudly blow 
Contending tempests on his naked head, 
Thus to reward the toils which to those sunnnlts led. 

That strong mind was tried l)y every extremity of for- 
tune, and if sometimes inflated by success, yet borne up ])y 
the all deathless thirst for renown, the grand incentive to 
all great toils o^r glorious deeds, he was never depr^sed b}- 
defeat. He faced his enemies, he faced fortune, and lie 
faced defeat, with the same dauntless heart, and the same 
unquailing brow, in youth and in age, regardless when or how 
they came, or what the peril might be. Yet wlien most 
overborne with calumny; when hatred raged fiercest against 
his person; and he was most stained with slander, — even at 
that time, to enemies as to friends, he was an object of ad- 
miring respect. When lashed into fury by disappointment, 
defeat and opposition, and the stormy passions of liis tem- 
pestuous soul raged like a whirlwind, liis bitterest opponent*^ 
would gaze curiously upon him witli a strange mixture of 
hatred, fear and admiration. 

There are many phases in Avliich it is necessary to regard 
Mr. Clay, to reach a correct estimate of his character: and to 
accomplish their delineation Avithout a degree of jumbling 
confusion, is a work ofsomedifhculty. As an orator, lie was 
brilliant and grand. None of his contemporaries could so 
stir men's blood. None approached him in liis masterv over 
the heart and the imagination of his hearers. Of all the 
gifts with which nature decks her favorites, not tlie great- 
est or grandest certainly, but tlie most brilliant, tlie most 
fascinating, and for the moment the most powerful, is exalted 
elocjuence. Before its fleeting and brief glare, the steady 
light of wisdom, logic or philosophy pales, as the stars fade 
before the meteor. With this choice and glorious gift nature 
had endowed Mr. Clay beyond all men of the age. Like all 
natural orators, he was very unequal; sometimes sinking to 
commonplace mediocrity, then again, when tlie occasion 



• 



10 

roused his genius, he would soar aloft in towering majesty. 
He had little or none of the tinsel of Rhetoric, or the wordy 
finery which always lies within the reach of the Rhetorician's 
art. Strong passions, quick sensibility, lofty sentiment, pow- 
erful reason, were the foundation of his oratory, as tliey are of 
all true eloquence. Passion, feeling, reason, wit, poured forth 
from his lips in a torrent so strong and inexhaustible, as to 
whirl away his hearers for the time in despite of their opinions. 
Nor should it be forgotten, slight and unimportant as physical 
qualities may appear in our estimate of the mighty dead, 
that his were eminently fitted for the orator. A tall, slen- 
der, erect person, changing under the excitement of speech 
its loose ttaccidity of muscle into the most vigorous and 
nerved energy ; an eye small, indeed, but deep and bonily 
set, and flaming with expression; and last and most impor- 
tant of all, a voice deep, powerful, mellow and ricli, beyond 
expression, — rich is a feeble phrase to express its round, 
articulate fullness, rolling up with the sublime swell of the 
organ, — all these together formed wonderlul aids to elo- 
quence. And his great and numerous triumphs attest their 
power. He had the true mesmeric stroke of the orator, — 
the power to infuse his feelings into his hearers; to make 
them think as he thought, and feel as he felt. No one can 
form any adequate conception of the power of his eloquence, 
who has not heard Mr. Clay when his blood was up, and the 
tide of inspiration rolling full upon him. His words indeed 
might be written down ; but the flame of mind which sent 
them forth red hot and blazing from its mint, could not be 
conveyed by letters. As well attempt to paint the lightning. 
The crooked, angular line may be traced ; but the glare, and 
the flame and the roar and the terror, and the electric flash, 
are gone. Stormy, vehement and tempestuous as were his 
passions and his oratory, there was still underneath them all, 
a cool stream of reason, running through the bottom of his 
brain, wiiich always pointed him to his object, and held him 
to his course. No orator, so passionate, ever committed 
fewer imprudencies. No passions so stormy ever left their 
possessor so watchful of his objects. Reason held the helm 
while passion blew the gale. 

As a debater, it would not be just to say that Mr. Clay held 
the same rank ; at least it may be said with justice, that in all 
the walks of debate he was not equally eminent. He was 
able everywhere ; and it is but gentle criticism to say, that in 
some trains of thought he did not shine forthwith the power 




11 

and lustre which marked his eloquence. It a])pears to me, 
after a critical study of his speeches, that lie discussed facts" 
with as much power as any of his greatest rivals. It a}>- 
pears to me also, tliat he fell beneath some of tliem in the 
discussion of principles. One of the gr^'atest of his com- 
peers taunted him once in the Senate with an inal)ility to 
analyze abstruse subjects. The taunt was made strongei, 
probably, by anger, than truth or candor would wai-vant : yet 
it seems to me to have been partially just. No one wIkj studies 
Mr. Clay's arguments upon points of political economy, can 
avoid perceiving how rarely he analyzes tlie luinoiple in- 
volved. We see a vast array of facts, many keen and 
thoughtful remarks about the results of the me;isure, Imt 
an analysis of its principle is scarcely ever attem]>ted. He 
doubtless understood the protective tariff system better tliau 
lie did any other subject in the range of i)olitical economy : 
and no one can read his speeclies upon that question witliout 
being struck with this feature. It is still more marked 
w^henever he discusses the subject of linance. A philos«jphic 
discussion of a principle, independent of the practical con- 
dition of things, is never to be found in his speeches; and in 
this he presented a most pointed contrast to his creat rival, 
who so short a time preceded him to the grave. It may be said 
that this was the result of imperfect education, and the barely 
hasty study which a bus}^, stirring life enabled him to be- 
stow upon abstruse subjects; but the better o]»inion seems 
to be that he was eminently a practical man, and the bent 
of his genius called him away from the metaphysics of pol- 
itics. ^^- Mr. Clay was undou!)tedly a far greater man, than 
the Scotch economist, Adam Smith ; yet it is not prol 'able 
that any extent of education, or any amount of labor, or 
any length of study, would have ena].)led him to write 
Adam Smith's book. Yet was he a very great debater, also. 
None of his compeers arrayed facts more skillfully, — none 
urged them with so much power. He had not tlie compact, 
clean cut, sententious brevity, Avhich marked some of those 
the public ranked as his equals; on the contrar}-, without 
being diffuse, he abounded in episodes; he introduced umch 
matter bearing upon his point, certainly, but l.u\uing upon 
it indirectly,— not unfrequently, also, introducing matter 
which did not much help on tlie question in hand. He 
abounded in the argumentum ad hominum, in personal ap- 
peal, in sarcasm, with much of personal allusion andcircuin- 
stantial explanation, often carrying him away Itoiu his sub- 



f 



12 

ject for some time, to which however, he always returned 
at precisely the point where he had left it. 

It is difficult, among the great masters of oratory and 
debate, to select one whom he closely resembled. It is not 
probable that he had ever studied any of them closely ; and 
even had he done so, the originality ofhis genius and the in- 
tense pride of his haughty temper would have prevented 
him from stooping to select a model. If he resembled any 
of them, he did not know it, and he would have cared as 
little to abolish the points of resemblance as to make them. 
To Demosthenes, to whom he has been often compared, he 
bore a likeness in his passion, his intensity, and in his occa- 
sional want of logic ; but he was utterly unlike him in 
other respects. He had none ofhis terseness, his nakedness 
and the straight forward, unhalting directness with which 
he dashed on to his end. To Cicero he bore no resemblance 
whatever. Among the eminent English speakers it would 
be almost as difficult to trace with him a parallel, in any 
considerable degree exact or close. The profound philoso- 
phy of Burke, with his gorgeous, lurid and golden language, 
rolling on with the pomp and power of an army blazing 
with banners, he in no degree approaclied. Sheridan's 
bright and pungent style, glittering with antithesis and point, 
was equally unlike him. I am inclined to think that of all 
the speakers I have read, though with less of logic and wit, 
and more of passion, he most resembled Charles Fox. The 
same rigid adherence actually to his point, even when seem- 
ing to be away from it ; tlie same abundance and exuberance 
of matter ; the same gladiatorial struggle to strike down his 
opponent, though the victory might slightly affect the ques- 
tion involved ; the same felicitous blending of passion and 
logic, with sparkles of sarcasm and personality spangling the 
whole, — all produced strong points of resemblance, not to be 
traced with any other orator. 

To all these eminent merits as a speaker, was united a 
profound knowledge of men, of their motives and of their 
weaknesses. Though it may be that in the early part of his 
life, he had learned but little from books, yet amid the 
frank, bold and reckless pioneers which formed Kentucky's 
early population, where the man stood forth in all the ori- 
ginality and nakedness of liis nature, and amid the stormy 
scenes of the hustings in wiiich he was early plunged, he 
had gained that quick insight into the human lieart, which 
in practical life goes fartlier to attain success than reams of 



t 






reading. He knew men thoroughly, and not only knew 
how^, but possessed the magnetic power to bend them to his 
purposes. 

There is probably no position in lifewhicli recjulres such 
. a combination of rare and high qualities as tliat ul'a great 
popular leader. He must be bold and prudent, promjtt and 
patient, stern and conciliating, captivating, coimnanchng, 
farseeing, and above all, brave to perfection! The lirst man 
in the nation, the first in power, undcmbtedly, wliatever 
may be his place, is the leader of the administration, be he 
in Congress or the Cabinet, President, or private. Tlie leader 
of the opposition can hardly be called the second man in 
rank or power, but if his party be strong and struiriiling, 
his position is one of great strength, and enables him, tli<mgh 
out of the government, to strongly affect it in tlie direction 
of the affairs of the nation. One of these nttitudes, Mr. 
Clay held throughout the greater part and all t]ie latter 
portion of his life. 

He led the administration party under Mr. Madison'.^ 
presidency, throughout the trying scenes of the war, and 
upon him fell the brunt of that fierce congressional struggle. 
When the cowardice of some commanders, and the incapa- 
city of all of them in the commencement of the war, liad 
brought about a series of shameful disasters, wliich made 
every American blush for his country, Henry Clay stood 
forth in advance of all, to encourage, to console, and to 
rouse his countrymen to renewed efforts. Defeats, disas- 
ters, blunders and shame hung heavy upon tlie party in 
power and disheartened its followers, while the eloijuent 
chiefs of the opposition poured forth a tempest of invective 
denunciation and ridicule against the fieeble and futile ef- 
forts, in which the honor ol the nation was sullied, and its 
strength lost. But the fiercer roared the storm, tlie sterner 
and higher pealed forth his trumpet voice to rally liis br«j- 
ken forces, and marshal them anew for tlie struggle. T*^ 
Henry Clay, far in front of all others, that administration 
ow^ed its support through the trying scenes of tliat bitter 
contest. 

He afterwards led the opposition through the terms of 
Jackson, Van Buren and Tyler. The unexami)led dexterity, 
skill, patience, firmness and hardihood, with which, in de- 
spite of repeated defeats, he still maintained the war, must 
excite unmixed admiration in all who may study his 
career. 



14 

Courage is a high quality. Courage, perfect, multiform, 
and unquenchable, one of the highest and rarest. Of all 
moral qualities, it is the most essential to a great popular 
leader, most especially the leader of an opposition ; and with 
that glorious gift nature had endowed Mr. Clay to ex- 
tremity. There was no political responsibility which he 
ever avoided to take ; tliere was no personal peril which 
he ever shunned to dare ; there was no raw in the opposing 
party which he ever failed to strike. His heart never 
failed him in any extremity. He met every crisis prompt- 
ly and at once, and in this he bore a remarkable contrast to 
almost every other politician of the age ; none of his con- 
temporaries approached him, in this bold, unhesitating 
promptness, but the man of his destiny, his great rival, 
Jackson, with whom, in so many otlier points, so close a 
parallel might be traced. In democracies, where the will 
of the people must be the ultimate law of the land, an un- 
certainty as to their decision is apt to induce politicians to 
wait and watch for indications of the probable result. The 
timid timeserver will fear to move ; he will fear to take 
ground ui3on any question until some gleams of light break 
out from the mass of the people, to show him tlie probable 
path to safety. Fears, misgivings, uncertainty as to his per- 
sonal interest, keep him silent and still, while the masses 
stumble onward to their decision without the light of a 
leader. But no faint-hearted doubts ever clouded his bright 
eye, when bold Harry Clay was in the field. Like the white 
plume of Murat, amid the smoke and the roar and the tur- 
moil of battle, his lofty crest was ever glittering in the van 
for the rally of his host. He waited for no indications of 
popularity, for he received his inspirations from his own 
clear head and dauntless heart. His convictions were so 
strong, his self-confidence so unbounded, his will so indom- 
itable, his genius so grand and lofty, that he seemed to bear, 
stamped upon his brow, nature's patent to command. He 
moved among his partisans with an imperial, never doubt- 
ing, overpowering air of authority, which few were able to 
resist. He tolerated no insubordination. Opposition seemed 
to him to be rebellion, and obey or quit the camp, death or 
tribute, was his motto. And he rarely failed to force obe- 
dience. Though the powerful rally which was made against 
him among his associates in 1840 and '48, when fortune 
furnished the weapon to strike, exposed how much of 
secret dislike his despotic will had banded against him, yet 



15 

it was generally beaten down to submission. His ablest 
and haughtiest comrades would, in general, sullenh' uljev 
"Willing to wound, but yet afraid to strike/' wiieii in 
1832, he wheeled short upon his footsteps witli Ids compro- 
mise bill upon the tariff', he carried with lihu the threat 
bulk of his partisans in Congress, and tlie wJioh; of tliemln 
the country, though directly committed to tlie support of 
that measure. In 1825, he carried with him his liirnels 
from Ohio, Missouri and Kentucky, for Mr. Adams, against 
Gen. Jackson, though with that vote, political destruction 
loomed up darkly in their front. Nor was it necessary tliat 
the question should lie in his patli to make liim meet it. 
He spoke out bold and free on all points in front or around 
him, far or near. In 1825, he was Secretary of State, and 
not necessarily involved in the ephemeral domestic pohtics 
of his State. Kentucky was boiling like a miirhty caldjoa 
upon the subject of her relief laws. True to his nature, Mr. 
Clay spoke out clear aud strong in belialf of justice and 
sound policy against the current of an overpowering ma- 
jority. Under the same circumstances lie took tlie "same 
responsibility two years afterwards, upon tiie question ot 
the old and new courts. This unliesitating and iionest au- 
dacity necessarily entailed upon him many temptjrary dis- 
asters, but he always came up again fresh and str(jng. 
Like the fabled wrestler of antiquity, he rose from liis mo- 
ther earth stronger in his rebound tlian before ]iis fall. 
Overwhelmed witli calunmy, he encountered a defeat in 
1828, which would liave broken tlie heart and Idighted the 
fame of any other popular leader in the nation. E\en 
Kentucky, the last covert of the hunted stag, was beaten 
from his grasp; yet he still made head, banded his ])roken 
forces, and four years afterwards again met his destiny in 
the same man. He encountered a defeat terrible and over- 
whelming, yet he stood under it erect and lofty as a tower. 
He had now left the retirement, from whence as a general 
he had marshalled his array, and had come down into tlie 
arena of the halls of Congress to strike, as well as order. 
And in the tremendous struggles of those stormy sessions, 
the battle of the giants, most gloriously did he hvid the as- 
sault. It is inspiriting to see how manfully he iqdield the 
day. The repeated disasters which liad crushed the hope 
and cowed the spirit of his partisans, broke vainly ui)on his 
haughty front. Defiance, stern and high, blazed in every 
feature, and war to the knife in every word. It was a brave 



16 



daht to see how gallantly lie would dash into the melee, 
dS Ms Sing blows W^ a.d left among Van Buren 
Cto , Forsy th^md Wright ; trample the wretched curs ot 
m IV into the dust beneath his feet, and strike with all his 
strenoth full at the towering crest of Jackson. 

Nor was it only in the bold and stern qualities of the 
r)artv leader that he excelled : he could be winmng and 
Gentle too While there was any hope of winning an op- 
lonent to the support of a measure, no man was more con- 
ciliatin^-; while his partisans would obey, no man was more 
kindand gentle ; and his high strung nature rendered his cour- 
tesy moi? attractive than the most dexterous flattery of oth- 
er men. As instances of this skill, I may mention that he 
twice carried through his land bill against a dead majority 
in both houses ; that he carried through his Missouri com- 
T>vomise when at first the eft'ort seemed hopeless; and that 
Tw^'a passage for his bank bills in 1832 aucl '4 with a 
minority of supporters in the first instance, and with an un- 
certain, hesitating, unreliable majority m the last. 

He was patient too, and could bide his time. In 1840, 
intestine commotion first appeared in his party, and he tirst 
met formidable and organized resistance to his will. He 
had for years fought out every campaign, as the leader ol 
the opposition ; his tactics had been brilliant, dexterous and 
admirable. The party in power was broken f ^wn, and he 
thought he saw himself close upon the long delayed fruition 
of all his hopes, i The bright crown of glory which had so 
lon^ glittered befere his eyes, but to elude his grasp, was 
now within his reach. But another was selected to wear, 
when he had won it. Another was chosen to reap the 
harvest, which he had worked and watched, and tended. 
Then, for the first time, he met, what he felt to be, rebel- 
lion in his camp. Then, for the first time, he saw his stand- 
ard deserted. His own appreciation of the services he had 
rendered his party, was strong and intense; and under so 
crushing a blow, i fiery, impetuous man might be expected 
to commit some imprudence. Doubtless, his heart beat 
thick with a sense of injustice, and his blood boiled m re- 
sentment. Yet he betrayed nothing of it, at least, not m 
public. The great party leader knew how to bide his time. 
He bowed gracefully to the decision, threw himselt coi- 
dially into the movement, and was still the recognized cUiei 
of the host which mustered under the banner of anotiiei. 
His was the power behind the throne, greater than tne 



17 

iroiie itself. Four years aiterwards, lie reaped tlie fruit 
ol his prudence and his patience. He was supported witli 
zeal and unanimity by those, wlio before had struck him 
down, and certainly nothing but the mine wliicli was so 
suddenly sprung beneath liis feet, prevented his triumph. 
After a close and most desperate struggle, he fell again, and* 
apparently for ever. Yet, even after this ai>])arently'linal 
blow, another effort was made, which most strikingl}' illus- 
trates his character, and displayed upon a broad ground his 
prodigious power over men, and his buoyant, ^ contident, 
sanguine, unbreakable spirit. When he was struck down in 
1844, it seemed that his race was run. His defeats had been 
so numerous and continued, he had been so long in the 
public eye, he was so far advanced in years, the rivals of Iiis 
middle age, Adams, Jackson, Crawford, had all passed 
away, and he seemed to be of a former generation. The 
public heart felt that his career was closed. The old make 
way for the young, and a new race had arisen. Taylor's 
victories had arrested the public mind, and the veteran 
statesman of Ashland, was forgotten ; yet, he attempted to 
stem the tide of victory in the very fullness of its power. 
His control over men w^as so prodigious, he bestirred him- 
self so vigorously, he struck so hard and true to his mark, 
that, with most of his close friends directly conunitted 
against him, and in spite of tlie general sense of the public, 
he scarcely failed to win. None but a spirit as dauntless 
as his own, would have dared the struggle. None but a 
power so great, could have made it. 

As a statesman, undoubtedly, Mr. Clay was entitled to the 
very highest rank among all his contemporaries. It has 
been generally conceded, that his learning was not profound 
or various. Of science, in its limited sense, he knew but 
little, and of the lighter and less important branches of 
study and accojnplishment, still less. It is said, that he 
cared notliing for literature, had never searched deej'lv into 
liistory ; and it is remarkable, tliat thougli at one time a 
minister abroad, and tor four years as Secretary of State, in 
constant relations and intercourse with foreio;n envoys of 
every nation, he spoke no language ])ut his own. Eut Jic knew 
thoroughly that ivhich it most imported him to know. He 
was profoundly versed in the theory and practices of our own 
government, and in a knowledge of the powers of each 
branch of it. He knew intimately and to the bottom, the 
coDnection^ political and commercial of America with all 



18 

other nations. He knew perfectly the relation wliich each 
part of the country bore to the other and he understood 
i.rofoundly the character, genius and wants of the American 
V)eoi)le. There was nothing sectional in his policy. His 
iroad and comprehensive genius held in its vision the inter- 
est of tlie wliole nation, and his big American heart 
tJirobbed for it all. He was intensely American in all his 
tliouglits and all Ms feelings. To cherish the interest and 
the glory, and.to build up the power of his country and his 
wliole country, was the aim of all his policy and the pas- 
sion of liis life. No candid reader, who may study his 
career, can deny, that on all great occasions, he was not 
only ])urely patriotic, but eminently self-sacrificing. Far 
brigliter examples of this patriotic spirit, will at once occur 
to all who are familiar with his career ; but at this moment, 
I will only allude to the instances in which he took ground 
upon Kentucky state politics, which I cited as examples of 
his unhesitating boldness, wiien I was discussing his charac- 
ter as a party leader. Like all other true statesmen, his 
ideas were all relative, not absolute. He was in no degree 
a man of one idea. He was not wedded peremptorily and 
at all hazards to any measure, or any principle. He under- 
stood the policy of a nation, not as a fixed mathematical 
tlieorem, where under all circumstances and at all times, 
every result but one must be wrong ; but as the practical 
science of fitting measures to the occasion, to necessity, and 
to the times. The best practical good which could be se- 
cured, was his aim, and under some circumstances, he w^ould 
maintain, what, under a different condition of affairs, he 
would oppose. Without discussing the philosophical sound- 
ness of his political economy, or the correctness of all his 
measures, it may be stated, with truth, that, in them all, he 
looked to the integrity and independence, political and 
commercial, of the nation. The energy of his support of it, 
jrave to him tlie rank of the champion of the protective 
tariff policy, though it was established before he came into 
])olitical life : and his arguments in its favor, principally 
turn upon tlie maintenance ot the commercial independence 
of the country. Yet, he was not wedded to it ; and when 
its continuance menaced danger to the country, he himself 
led the way in pulling it down. 

Tlie monument to his memory upon the Cumberland 
road, bears testimony to his eftbrts in behalf of national 
works of mternal improvement. He was also the author 



19 

of some important, and of some great and vital measures. 
He originated the scheme for the distribution among the 
States, of the public lands ; he was the author of the Mis- 
souri compromise, and of the adjustment of the last stormy 
agitation of the slavery subject. These three measures 
were his own. They were struck off in the mint of his own 
mind. The first of these measures must be criticised, both 
as the movement of a party leader and a statesman, and 
with regard to the conclition of things at the time, to un- 
derstancl its real merit, and to deal justice to its author. 
Shortly after the revolution, in the magnanimous spirit of 
that immortal age, the States ceded the lands to the general 
government, as a security for the payment of the national 
debt. That debt was nearly satisfied, when Mr. Clay's 
measure was devised, and the treasury was overflowing with 
revenue. It was the general sense of all parties, that the 
land fund should be withdraAvn from the current support 
of the general government ; and Congress was overrun with 
schemes to squander it. Some of the States asserted the 
monstrous heresy of a title to all, within their limits, by 
right of their sovereignty. Propositions for grants to States, 
companies and individuals were rife in each hall, and, pro- 
bably, by no other movement would it have been possible 
to rescue and preserve, for the benefit of the Union, that 
inimense fund from squandering dissipation. Considered 
without reference to the scliemes of abandonment, which it 
was necessary to oppose, the measure does not appear to be 
founded on philosophical soundness and policy. In the 
United States, we have two circles of government, with a 
common constituency. The State and Federal governments' 
are organs of the same people. Tliey have separate and 
distinct poAvers, different circles and measures of autliority 
and action, but a common, and the same constituency. Both 
governments are mere abstractions, while the living, breath- 
ing power, is tlie people and the same people. The same 
men are citizens of one government and the other. The 
same people bear the burden, pay the revenue, and enjoy 
the benefits of them both. Both governments are ideal 
existences, artificial organs of one common master. There- 
fore, it does not appear, when abstractly considered, to be 
sound or philosophical statesmanship, to give to the people, 
through one organ, a portion of the public revenue, when 
the same people will be compelled to pay it back again in a 
different sliape to the other. It seems to be shifting a trea- 



r 



20 . 

sure iroiii one pocket to the other, with some loss on the 

^'^Bufcoiisidered as a movement to prevent that great iund 
from beina- squandered, it was the stroke of a statesman, anu 
as the tactics of a party leader the conception was most dex- 
terous The country was upon the eve of a presidential 
election, and the disposition of the land fund was to the can- 
didates a most perilous and embarrassing c^uestion. Mr. 
Clav's opponents in the Senate, constituting a majority, deter- 
mined to complicate him with tlie subject, and m spite of the 
•emonstrances and votes of himsell andliis friends they reler- 
I'ed it to tlie committee upon Manufactures, of which he was 
chairman,— the last committee in the House to which the 
subject was appropriate and germain. This disposal oi the 
subject, unjust as it was, compelled him to take it up. li he 
favored or opposed any of the numerous grants for various 
purposes, somewhere in the nation, loss to hmi would en- 
sue If he favored the proposition to cede tlie lands t^ tlie 
new States, he disgusted the old. If he opposed it, he ottend- 
ed the new. But the invention of the old party leader 
came to his rescue, and as his return blow, lie conceived tne 
counterstroke of a distribution among all the States. 

On the two other great occasions, when sectional excite- 
ment shook the Union to its centre, to which I have reierred, 
he appeared as a mediator. He was the author of the Missouri 
Compromise, and of the adjustment measures of the stormy 
session of 1850. The completely relative cast ol all 
his political ideas, the total al >sence Irom his character ot 
ianaticism upon any opinion or principle, eminently htted 
him for a mediator, and upon all dangerous questions lie 
always acted that part. Whenever conflicting interests or 
opinions menaced the integrity of the Union, lie stood lortJi 
as the harbinger and tlie champion of peace and conciliation. 
He saw the wretched condition of the miserable httle repub- 
lics of South America, feeble, demorahzed and contempti- 
ble at war with each other, trampled upon by every Euro- 
pean power, and despised by the world : he was a meni- 
ber of a great nation; he loved his country and his whole 
country, from North to South, from the big lakes to tlie 
gulf, from ocean to ocean, from the sunrise to the sunset, 
and every feeling of his heart, every thought of his brain, 
revolted at dismemberment. It is enough to say, in eulogy 
of tliose measures, and it should immortalize the great 
statesman \\1io conceived them, tliat both the great divis- 



21 



as a 
ill 



if 



ions of the American people have adopted tliem Loth 
part of tlieir political creed. 

Doubtless some portion of Ids iniiuence in tlie adjustiacni 
of tiiose perilous questions arose from the entirely modciatc 
and conservative cliaracter of his opinions upon tiiat suhiect 
and from the peculiarity ol his position. Jrle was a nativt- 
and a representative of a Slave State; lie had never lived 
any where else; and while untlincliingly true, at all times 
ana upon all points, to the rights of the Soutliern St.ite< 
yet he considered slavery as a great thou-li unavoidahk' eviV 
Jiut he was m no degree impassioned and blinded in re«--ard" 
to It. He looked at the subject calmly and witliout exn<yc7^_^iA 
tion; not through the magnifying glass of religious fmati 
cism or distorted pliilanthropy, but witii tlie calm eye of a 
practical statesman. He maintained the policy ol graduaJ 
emancipation on both occasions that the subject was agitated 
in Kentucky, openly and vigorouslv ; contending tlmt the 
great numerical preponderance of the\vhites overthe blacks 
m that State rendered their gradual emancipation and re- 
moval safe and easily attainable. At the same time lie 
always declared that he considered all such schemes tc be 
utterly impracticable in the planting States : and if a citizen 
ol one ol them, would oppose them all, because the num- 
bers of the blacks v.'ould render their reniuval imix^ssil .le,and 
their continual presence disadvantageous and perilous to the 
whites. He favored emancipation in Kentuckv, whik^ far- 
ther South he declared he considered it utterly impractica- 
ble. These view^s he urged and amplified at length, not only 
m the discussion of the question in his own State, but also 
mthelnited States Senate, while discussing the rece])tioii 
of petitions for the abolition of slavery in the District of Co- 
lumbia. This position might also be referred to, as another 
illustration of the practical and completelv relative cliarac- 
ter of all his political ideas. Doubtless, as an abstract j)roposi- 
tion, considered without reference to its inevitable existence 
or the perilous consequences of its cessation, he was oi>posed 
to slavery ; for liberty was the passion of his life. His own 
country and liis own countrymen were the first and the 
princii^al object in his thoug-hts and in his heart : but his 
broad and extended philanthropy eml>raced the world. 
, Even the degraded African slave, separated from his own 
Vrace by a wide and impassable gulf, found in him a well- 
wisher to his moral and mental elevation, when it could 
occur safely in a dilfereut land and another clime. Where- 



2^ 

ever abroad, freedom found a votary, that votary met in 
him a champion. When Greece, the classic knd of 
Greece, — the fountain of refinement, the birthplace of 
eloquence and poetry, and liberty, — when Greece awoke 
from tlie long slumber of ages, and beat back the fading 
Crescent to its native East, — when Macedon at last called to 
mind the feats of her conquering boy, and the Spartan again 
struck in for the land which had bred him, in Henry Clay's 
voice the words of cheering rolled over the blue waters, from 
the far west, as the greeting of the New World to the Old. 
W^hen Mexico, and our sister republics of the extreme South, 
shook off the rotted yoke of the fallen Spaniard, and free- 
dom's face for one brief moment gleamed under the pale 
light of the Southern Cross, it was he who spoke out again 
to cheer and to rouse its champions. The regenerated 
Greek, the dusky Mexican, the Peruvian mountaineer, — all, 
who would strike one blow for liberty, found in him a friend 
and an advocate. His words of cheering swept over the 
plains of Marathon, and came ringing back from the peaks of 
the Andes. But that voice is now stilled, and his bright eye 
closed forever. He has gone from our midst, and the wailing 
of grief which rose from the nation, and the plumage of 
mourning which shrouded its cities, its halls and its altars, at- 
test his countrymen's sense of their loss. He has gone, and 
gone in glory. From us rises the dirge : with him floats the 
psean of triumph. By a beautiful decree and poetical justice 
of destiny, it was fated that the last effort of the Union's great 
champion should be made in behalf of the Union, in its 
last great extremity. He passed off the stage as became 
the Great Pacificator. His dying eftbrt was worthy of and 
appropriate to him. When the fountains of the great 
deep of the public mind were broken up, and the fierce pas- 
sions of sectional animosity tore over it, as the storms 
sweep over the ocean, it was from his voice that the words 
of soothing came forth, " Peace, be still." It was his last 
battle, and the gallant veteran lought it out with the power 
and the fire of his prime. The expiring light of life, though 
flickering in its last beams, blazed up to the fullness of its 
meridian lustre. There was no fading away of intellect, or 
gradual decay of body. Minds like his, and souls so fiery, 
are cased in frames of steel, and when they fall at last, they 
fall at once. The Union w^as not compelled to blush for the 
decay of the Union's great champion. Age had not crum- 
bled the stately dignity of his form, nor reduced his manly 



23 



intellect to the imbecility of a second cJiiklhood. He faded 
away into no feeble twilight ; he sunk down to no dim sun 
se but sprang out of life mthe briglit blaze of merilm 
lullness. He passed down into the valley of tJie ^liulr w 
of death with all his glory unclouded, with all his laSs 
Iresh and green around him. Not a spot obscures the lustre 
of his crest; not a sprig has been torn from his clKuJct 
'•The dead Douglas has won the field." His dvin- ear runt^ 
with the applause of his country, and the liosannas of a nZ 
tion s gratitude. Death has given to liim tlie emi .ire in tlie 
hearts of his countrymen, not fully granted to the livin- 
man,--and altliough it was not decreed tliat the first lioncrs 
ot the nation should await him, its last blessings will clus 
ter around his name. His memory needs no monument 
He wants no mausoleum of stone or marble to imin-ison iiis 
sacred dust. Let him rest amid the tokens of the Ireedom 
he so much loved. Let him sleep on, where the wlii.thn- 
ol the tameless winds,— the ceaseless roll of the murmui^ 
mg waters —the cliirping of the wild bird,— and all whicli 
speaks of Liberty, may chant his eternal lullaby. Peace be 
with thy soul, Henry Clay; may the earth lie hght upon 
you, and the undying laurel of glory grow ^reen over thv 
grave. " ^ ^ ^ j 



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